Someday
by hellomynameisv
Summary: Can a stranger help Jack and Sean get over their mom's death?


I stood in line with my brother, Sean. The day was blisteringly hot, pretty unusual for a place like New York. The weather wasn't the reason we were waiting to get ice cream, though, unlike basically everyone else in line.

The real reason was that we needed something to cheer us up, to distract us from the aching pain in our hearts, to give us some semblance of our old lives. I chuckled wryly to myself. Old lives. I sounded like Grandpa.

But it was true. When Mom had been here, buying ice cream was a regular occurrence (maybe not so much in the winter). Now was a different story, though. Even getting out of the house was a struggle. I missed my mom that much; it felt like my heart had been torn in two, and nothing would ever put it back together.

I had to continuously remind myself that I had a younger brother to take care of, though. So when Sean had broken down earlier today, I had offered to buy us both ice cream to help him feel better and get him out of the house.

"Can...can I ask why you're so sad?" A voice knocked me out of my thoughts.

I looked up. A boy, around 12, I gathered, had asked the question.

How'd he know we were feeling down? A look at Sean gave me the answer to that question. His eyes were still puffy and red from crying earlier. I figured I didn't look much better.

The boy seemed to sense our hesitation, saying quickly, "That's okay; you don't need to answer that. That was too personal." He looked flustered and slightly disappointed.

"Wait, no, it's fine," I said, trying to put the kid out of his apparent embarrassment. "My, um, my mom died, last week."

"Oh...I'm sorry," he said, quietly. The look the boy gave us caught my attention. It was, like, a mixture of sadness, grief, and genuine concern for us. I guess that was what pushed me to trust him and open up.

"Yeah, helicopter accident," I said.

The boy nodded. "My mom died too."

I was about to ask about the cause of death of his mom, but figured that was too personal of a question and sensed that he seemed uncomfortable with the topic. Maybe the kid would open up to me, given time. Not that they had a lot of that.

There was a few seconds of awkward silence when the kid continued, saying, "She died when I was four. I don't have many memories with her, so you should feel lucky that she died when you were older. Not, that I wanted her to die."

He paused, before saying, "I was really, really sad for a long time. It was like someone had shot a hole in my heart, you know? But, do you know what my dad told me?"

"What?" I was entranced.

"He told me that my mommy was always gonna be listening, always gonna be helping me in life. She's always going to be there for me, him, and everyone else she loved."

"Like...in heaven?"

The kid shrugged. "We never went to church, probably never will, so maybe not heaven, but some form of her will always be here." He pointed to his chest, but I knew he meant his heart.

"So," he continued, "I started talking to her. Before bed, when I woke up, when my dad was having a hard time with a case, you name it. And then, it started to hurt less, and before I knew it, that hole in my heart was filled up with other people I loved. There's still a mark there. I can never forget my mom. But it becomes better, over time. Someday, it won't hurt anymore."

The kid turned around at that, having reached the counter, and ordered two ice cream cones. I was stunned. That showed a level of maturity that I never could've imagined coming from someone at that age. I looked over at Sean, wondering if he had heard everything. After all, he had been silent during the entire encounter. I found that Sean, once again, had tears streaming down his face.

When the kid had finished with his order, I whispered, "Thank you." The boy nodded, giving me a small, but genuine smile, and walked away.

After getting our ice cream (mint chocolate chip for me and strawberry for Sean), we sat on a bench, eating in silence. I observed the kid walk to a man with black hair and a serious face. The face melted to form a huge smile when the man saw the kid, who handed him one of the ice cream cones he had bought. The kid's blonde hair contrasted sharply with the man's dark hair, but it didn't matter. Any bystander could see that they were father and son and that they were happy.

I smiled, watching their interactions. When the pair walked past us, the kid waved shyly at me, and I waved back.

"We're going to visit my friend, Beth, now. You remember Beth, Jack?" The man asked.

"Of course I do!" The kid replied enthusiastically.

They laughed, the dad ruffling the kid's hair as he tried to squirm away without dropping his ice cream. They descended the stairs into the subway. I wish I could've known the kid better, but now I just have to be thankful for the kid's kindness. Wait a minute, the dad, I suddenly thought. I was pretty sure I saw that face on the news before, something about a serial killer and the FBI? Before I could think further, someone distracted me.

"Hey," Sean nudged me. "You guys have the same name!"

"Yeah," I replied. I couldn't believe I didn't realize that. I also realized this was the most I'd smiled since Mom's death.

Maybe things could be okay, maybe my heart wouldn't always be in pieces, maybe I could be happy again.

Thanks, Mom, I thought, looking up at the sky. I could've sworn I saw the day lighten up just a bit.


End file.
